Freakling Page 13

  Drigg shook his head. “Do what? It would take an army to stop those haulers. We don’t even have any authority officers.”

  The haulers were headed toward the square, away from the tinker’s shop. Taemon turned back to get his shoes. “I have to find out what’s going on.”

  Drigg grabbed his arm. “No, you don’t. Best let them do what they came to do and get back to where they came from. Nothing you or I can do about it.”

  “You don’t know that.” Taemon yanked his arm free. “If it runs, don’t fix it. Isn’t that what you say? Well, something’s broken. And maybe we can fix it.”

  Drigg took off his cap and rubbed his bald spot. “Blazes! A man can’t argue with his own motto. C’mon. I’ll go with you.”

  After putting their shoes on, they ran toward the square. The haulers had plowed right over the fountain, destroying the pipes and ripping up the concrete benches around it. Water spilled over gouged and scattered cobblestones, making it hard to run. By the time Taemon and Drigg caught up to them, the haulers had stopped. Apparently they’d reached their destination. Taemon craned his neck to see what lay beyond them.

  Skies! They were lined up in front of Amma’s house!

  In an instant, dozens of temple guards were climbing out of the haulers. What the blazes was going on?

  Out of the darkness, Hannova emerged. She was dressed in her nightclothes, her robe billowing out behind her. She strode up to a guard near the front. “You will explain this act of —?” As if a switch had been thrown, Hannova collapsed. Had they killed her?

  “She is alive,” said a voice that had been amplified with psi — a voice that Taemon would recognize anywhere. It was Elder Naseph. “But she will remain unconscious until we are finished here. We will not harm anyone who does not interfere with our mission. People of the colony, come forward! This is a historic occasion! We are here to claim this property in the name of the True Son, to benefit the New Cycle of Power! Your humble colony shall influence the course of history though its generous donation of knowledge!”

  Skies! They were here for the library! Where was Amma and her family? He peered through the shadows, hoping to spot a familiar face.

  Slowly, people made their way out of their houses and into the streets. Still, no one dared get too close to the large haulers or the fifty-odd burly temple guards surrounding Amma’s house. The guards on the outside faced the crowd, watching for any sign of resistance. Taemon got as close as he dared, until he could see Elder Naseph. And beside him stood Yens.

  A few guards burst out of the house, each one using psi to drag a prisoner with them. The Parvels. Their hands had been cuffed. The guards lined them up in front of the porch.

  Elder Naseph turned to Yens. “Let’s begin.”

  Yens nodded.

  Five syringes came flying like darts from skies-knew-where. The serum. Each member of the Parvel family got stuck in the neck.

  “Yes,” said Yens, “we know your little secret. It won’t change anything. Don’t worry, I made sure you got a small dose. I want you to be conscious. So you can watch.”

  “You . . . have no right . . . to be here,” Mr. Parvel said, his speech coming slowly, his body swaying. All of Amma’s family looked like they were having trouble staying upright. “This property belongs to the colony.”

  “Not anymore,” Yens said. “Brand-new cycle. Brand-new rules. Now, let’s get busy.”

  He turned and stared at Amma’s house. Suddenly the porch began ripping itself apart. Boards tore away from the frame. Shelves and all their ceramic contents crashed into piles of rubble. Cries and gasps came from the small crowd watching.

  The piece-by-piece destruction of Amma’s house happened at an alarming rate. The stucco walls crumbed into dust. The wooden framework pulled itself apart. They were after the library. No doubt.

  Furniture and linens and dishes and musical instruments flung themselves into the heaps of rubbish. Stuff, Taemon reminded himself. It was just stuff. As long as the psi door held. And he was sure it would.

  The house was completely gone now, the rocky slope of the hillside lay bare under the morning sun. Mrs. Parvel’s sobs echoed in the sudden silence. Only the psi door stood between Yens and the library. Yens grinned.

  “You’ll never . . . crack . . . the lock,” said Mr. Parvel.

  “We’ll see,” Yens said.

  He wouldn’t be able to do it. The lock was the most complicated thing Taemon had ever seen. And that door was solid. Taemon let his mind wander into the door just to assure himself that everything was in place. Yes, that door was tight as a —

  Skies! The pins were beginning to drop inside the lock. Taemon stood stunned as one by one each wheel turned and each bolt retracted.

  The door swung open.

  Taemon ran forward. “Yens!”

  One of the temple guards grabbed him and pinned him in place with psi. Yens turned around to face Taemon.

  “I was hoping I’d get to see you on this trip. My dear younger brother.”

  Mr. Parvel gasped. “Brother?”

  Amma groaned.

  Her father turned with great effort to look at his daughter. “You . . . knew?”

  She nodded. “I . . . never . . . thought . . . I’m so . . . sorry, Da.”

  Vangie. It had to be Vangie who had stolen his journal and taken it to the city. How it ended up in Yens’s hands was anybody’s guess.

  Taemon tried to explain, but someone was holding his jaw shut with psi. He struggled against the psi that held him, but he could do nothing more than wriggle and murmur.

  He watched the agony on Mr. Parvel’s face as Yens strolled into the library.

  The books started flying out of the door and into the haulers. Book after book. Stack after stack. A continuous stream of books disappeared into the haulers. And there was nothing anyone could do.

  After a long, torturous half hour, Yens emerged from the cave that once held the library.

  Elder Naseph, who had been content to let Yens do the dirty work until now, stepped forward and addressed the crowd. “Thank you so much for your donation to the cause. Now, we have one last order of business. One family here did not cooperate. That cannot go unpunished.” He stared at the piles of rubble off to the side. Everything the Parvels owned lay in those heaps. Suddenly, flames erupted in each pile.

  Elder Naseph turned his back on the destruction and climbed aboard one of the haulers. The burly temple guards all did the same. Yens had one foot on a hauler’s running board when Challis showed up out of nowhere. “Do not go with these men, nephew,” she said, looking directly at Yens. “They will betray you.”

  Yens stood perfectly still. Somehow Challis commanded his attention and no one moved to stop her. She grabbed hold of Yens’s arm. Taemon saw him cringe, but, miraculously, he didn’t pull away.

  “I see things. I know what they’re up to. Making psi weapons for the Republik. They’re going to sell my nephew to the Republik right along with those weapons. That’s a good way to get rid of him, isn’t it? Sacrifice, they’ll call it. The True Son sacrifices himself for the good of the true people.” Challis shook a finger right in front of Yens’s face. “Don’t you do it!”

  Yens paled.

  Elder Naseph materialized. “Silence, woman!” Challis wilted and collapsed on the ground. He ordered Yens into the hauler, and in seconds they were rumbling off the way they had come.

  With the haulers gone, the colonists jumped into action. There were flames to put out. People to care for. Drigg and Taemon hurried to check on the Parvels, who were sitting on the ground in a daze.

  The cuffs had been unlocked, and the drugs were starting to wear off.

  “Lost,” Mr. Parvel mumbled. “Everything lost. How?”

  “Let’s get you all to the healer’s,” Drigg said. “Can you walk?”

  Mr. Parvel ignored Drigg and focused on Taemon. “It was you, wasn’t it? You helped him — helped him steal from us. I just can’t figure out how.”
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  “I’m so sorry. It was an accident.”

  “An accident? An accident?” Mr. Parvel stood up on wobbly legs.

  Drigg braced his shoulder underneath Mr. Parvel’s arm and started leading him away. “We’ll work through all that later, Birch. Let’s get you and yours to the healer.”

  Taemon turned to Amma. “I’m so sorry.”

  She looked at him blankly. “Sorry changes nothing.”

  Hours later, when Hannova, Challis, and the Parvels had recovered, Taemon had been summoned to a council meeting to explain himself. After he told the council what he thought had happened, not everyone was convinced.

  “He didn’t do anything wrong,” Drigg said. “He told you what happened. That Vangie girl stole his journal.”

  “But how do we know he’s telling the truth?” Mr. Parvel said.

  “I vouch for him,” said Drigg. “Hannova does, too. Challis backs him up. Skies, what more do you want?”

  “I want the library back!” Mr. Parvel thundered.

  Hannova spoke next. “The library is a terrible loss, no doubt about it. But what’s done is done. We have to look forward. Challis, what about this war you say is coming? Is there any chance it can be prevented?”

  “There is one chance,” said Challis. “He’s sitting right over there.” She nodded toward Taemon.

  “Him?” Mr. Parvel sputtered. “He’s the one who started it!”

  Taemon’s face burned, but he could hardly argue with that. If he hadn’t let his mind wander into that psi door, if he hadn’t felt the need to draw what he’d seen in his journal, if he hadn’t left his journal where Vangie could find it, then none of this would be happening.

  Challis frowned at Mr. Parvel. “It was always going to happen that way. No use blaming the boy for doing what he’d already done.”

  Mr. Parvel and a few others grumbled, but no one challenged her point. Finally, Taemon worked up the courage to ask the obvious question: “How am I supposed to stop the war?”

  “You’re not going to like it,” Challis said.

  He wasn’t surprised to hear that. Was putting a stop to a war ever enjoyable? “If there’s a way that I can undo what I’ve done, I’ll try. Just tell me what I have to do.”

  “You’ll have to go back to the city,” Challis said.

  She was right. He didn’t like it.

  “Go back to the city? And do what, exactly? Steal back the books? What if they’ve read some of them by now? They’ll know how to do all sorts of things — horrible things,” he said, shuddering as he remembered what Mr. Parvel had told him about atoms. “What can I possibly do to stop them?”

  “I can’t tell you exactly,” Challis said. “I haven’t seen how things turn out. But one thing’s clear. You have to keep Yens from going to the Republik. Make him part ways with the high priest. If he keeps following Naseph’s orders, there’ll be no stopping the war.”

  Taemon leaned forward in his seat. “You’re telling me I have to convince Yens to step down from being the True Son.”

  Challis nodded.

  He shook his head. “That’s . . . impossible.”

  “One more thing,” Challis said, ignoring him entirely. “The Water girl has to go with you.”

  “Now, wait one minute,” Mr. Parvel said, but Hannova shushed him.

  “We have a chance to divert a war,” said Hannova. “Even if it’s an incredibly small chance, we have to take it.”

  A quick vote proved that this was the general consensus of the council. There was no arguing with a seer. If Taemon and Amma were their best shot at avoiding war, then back to the city they would go.

  Taemon just wished it were someone else they were all depending on.

  They would take the byrider. Drigg had reinstalled the original psi motor, and it was running fine. Taemon gave Amma a very unthorough driving lesson, and Challis gave Taemon a bag of food and a hug. Challis had told them they didn’t have much time, so they set out on the shortest route, which would put them at the West Gate in about two hours.

  Taemon sat behind Amma on the byrider. Holding on to her waist gave him a weird feeling. Not bad, just weird. Adding to the weirdness were the psi clothes he was wearing, the same clothes he’d worn in the city on his birthday; they felt more uncomfortable than ever.

  They got off to a rough start. It took a while before Amma could run the byrider’s engine at a constant speed and steer at the same time. She was getting better as they went, but she tired quickly, which meant they had to stop frequently. Taemon wished he could talk to her, bounce around some ideas about what to do once they got to the city. But he knew she needed to focus on driving.

  About an hour into the drive, they had yet to see another vehicle. Tall spindly pine trees lined the paved road. A bald eagle swooped down on the left and settled on a tree to watch them go by.

  “Did you see that?” Amma asked. “The Eagle is a good sign for us right now. It means we’re going to succeed.”

  Taemon grunted. The other meaning for Eagle was isolation. That was probably the more likely outcome.

  The byrider started veering to the left.

  “Don’t look at the bird.” Taemon said.

  “Why?”

  “Where you look is where you go,” he said. “That’s the first rule of driving with psi. If you don’t want to go there, don’t look at it.”

  “Got it,” she said. The byrider’s path straightened out.

  When they crossed a bridge over a small stream, Taemon noticed the reeds growing along its banks. Reed was a better sign for them right now than Eagle. Reed was all about thinking, and that’s what Taemon needed to do. Think. Think of a plan.

  Skies, he did not want to go to the city! What would they do there? How could they stop Yens? Even with Amma’s psi, the task seemed impossible. They were outnumbered, outpowered, and outsmarted.

  The byrider began weaving in the road.

  “Need a rest?” Taemon said.

  “Nah,” said Amma. “We’d better keep going.”

  They swerved onto the shoulder of the road, kicking up rocks and narrowly missing a ditch.

  “Not if you keep driving like that. We’d better take a break.”

  “Maybe you’re right.” Amma cut off power to the engine, and they slowed to a stop. They led the bike across a shallow part of the ditch, then found a shady spot and sat down. Taemon pulled some salted meat out of the sack, broke it, and handed half to Amma.

  “Is it my imagination, or does using psi make you hungry?” she asked.

  “It used to make me hungry,” said Taemon. “But I’m always hungry.”

  “I can’t believe how much concentration that takes. How do people do it all day every day?”

  Taemon shrugged. “You get used to it. After a while you don’t have to think about it so much. When I first lost my psi, I kept forgetting it wasn’t there anymore. Kept trying to use it, you know, to open doors, turn on lights, get dressed.”

  Heat rose from his neck to his face. What was he thinking, talking about getting dressed? He was so stupid when it came to talking to girls. He turned his head and ripped off another bite of the tough salted meat.

  Amma cleared her throat. “So, when we get to Deliverance, what do we do first?”

  “We’ll find my parents. They might be able to tell us something about Yens.” And even if they couldn’t, Taemon would feel a whole lot better knowing they were okay. “After that, I don’t know.” He stared down at the ground. “This is hopeless.”

  “Hey.” Amma touched his arm. He looked up at her. “Where you look is where you go, remember? Don’t look at hopeless. We don’t want to go there.”

  “What else is there to look at?”

  “Form an image in your mind of what you want to happen, then do what it takes to make it happen. It’s just like using psi.”

  “Only I have no way to make it happen,” Taemon muttered.

  Amma frowned. “If that’s what you think, then why did you
come?”

  “Challis said I had to.” Taemon shrugged. “Besides, what other choice do I have? Sit around and wait for the war to start?”

  Amma stood up. “We have lots of choices right now, Taemon. About a million.”

  “Name one.”

  “Running away.”

  “Where? We can’t go back to the colony. We can’t live in Deliverance.”

  “So? There are other cities. We have a byrider. We have a couple days’ food. We could go anywhere. We could go to the Republik.”

  Taemon scrunched his brow. “How would we get there? Drigg said no one can cross the mountains.”

  “There’s got to be a way. We could do it. Why not?” Amma threw one hand up in the air and let it fall.

  Was she serious? She looked serious. If they went to the Republik, they wouldn’t have anywhere to go, wouldn’t know anyone who would help them. But how was that different than what awaited them in Deliverance? Maybe she had a point.

  Except that it felt completely wrong.

  He shook his head. “We should at least try.”

  Amma knelt down and looked Taemon in the eye. “Why? Why should we try?”

  Taemon leaned back. Sometimes Amma was one intense girl. “Um . . . because we said we would?”

  “So what? We can change our minds, can’t we? Because it’s hopeless, right?”

  Now she was getting downright annoying. Taemon began packing the food and water back into the sack. “We shouldn’t argue right now. We have to at least try to stop this war. We’re not running away, so let’s just get going.”

  Amma sat back on her heels and crossed her arms. “I’m not budging until I know why you’re doing this. And I’m the driver, remember?”

  Taemon glared at Amma. What did she want him to say? She could be so infuriating. They were wasting time. He threw the sack to the ground. “Look, we’re doing this because it’s the right thing to do. Those flaming priests got their hands on those books, and they’re making weapons. If there’s even a chance of us stopping a war, we have to try.”